No One Is To Blame
by JenniferC16
Summary: This is based off the film, Maze Runner: The Death Cure. I finally got around to watching it last night and how much Thomas lost really resonated with me. I had this fanfic floating around my head all night and just did a quick write this morning. I feel it is a bit clumsy but I know if I let it sit on my desktop, I will end up overthinking it and not posting it at all. So, enjoy!


**Nobody Is To Blame**

"Kill me, Thomas! Please!" Newt begged as he fought to no avail, the virus quickly overtaking his body. Thomas pushed the knife upwards as hard as he could but despite Newts' smaller frame, he was overpowering him and Thomas felt the knife slowly pierce his skin. Thomas yelled in pain and with one last effort pushed Newt off of him, begging him to stop. Newt grabbed the knife and rushed towards Thomas, falling into his chest as Thomas felt the knife enter his heart. The explosions, crumbling buildings and cries of war that echoed around them suddenly became quiet as Thomas looked Newt in the eyes. He coughed, a stream of blood falling down the corner of his mouth. Newt whispered, "You let me turn, Tommy." A whisperwith the power of a hellish scream as the words cut through the heart and soul of Thomas, guilt overtaking him, he called out for Newt, crying, but Newt disappeared before his eyes.

Thomas shot upright in his bed, a cold sweat making him shiver despite the warm island heat blowing through the tent. He was breathing hard, hands clutching his shirt, just above the scar he now bore from Newt's knife. His eyes scanned the room, everyone sound asleep, safe and alive. He took solace in that, "At least I could save some." He thought to himself as he stood and made his way to the beach. He stopped at the Memorial Rock, finding Newt's name that he had carved among the hundreds of others. His fingers traced over the carved rock. "But I couldn't save them all." The words burning his heart.

It was dawn, the sun just rising over the horizon. The waves crashed on the beach creating a peaceful and heavenly white noise. He sat, cross-legged, just staring over the water, rolling Newt's cure necklace over the palm of his hand as one would a rosary.

"You okay?" a quiet voice came from behind him. He didn't turn, already knowing the voice. Brenda sat beside him, covering her shoulders with a blanket.

He didn't answer but just kept staring at the necklace. She looked down at it and back over the water.

"I keep hearing his voice." He quietly said and immediately furrowed his brow, silently wondering why he had just said that.

People looked to him for strength and guidance and he tried to not make his weaknesses known. There was something about Brenda that made him let his guard down, something that made it easy to reveal his secrets and how he really felt. He knew she would understand and wouldn't hold it against him.

"You know Newt would never blame you, Thomas". She said, keeping her eyes on the horizon.

"No one blames you."

"I blame me." He said, straightening up and letting the necklace dangle from his hand.

"You want to blame someone? Blame WICKD. Blame Janson. Hell, blame the damn virus." She said, a touch of anger in her tone.

"I spent so much time running and fighting WICKD and people died for that. I could have just gone with them and they would have a cure and Newt would be alive." Thomas said, his voice lowering after each word.

"I wouldn't."

He looked at her.

"I wouldn't be alive, Thomas."

He opened his mouth but found no words.

"You saved me. You saved every single person here."

He bowed his head.

She continued, "You can't do that. You have to stop looking for blame. They didn't die for anything. They are going to live on in our memories and our stories. The city has fallen. We won, Thomas."

He smiled slightly.

She returned the smile, "We're going to rebuild. And those kids are going to need you."

Tilting her head towards him, she added "I'm going to need you."

Thomas looked into her eyes, a warm feeling overcoming him.

"Was that just her smile doing that?" he thought to himself as his eyes drifted to her lips and he leaned in. Their lips met, gentle and soft. When they broke apart, they both chuckled, clasping each other's hands.

No words were needed.

Brenda leaned on Thomas, resting her head and they sat in silence as the morning sun rose.

\- end


End file.
